


A Little Spark

by OctoberSkies



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, But Mostly Smut, Erotic Electrostimulation, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Overstimulation, POV Dorian Pavus, Sex Magic, Teasing, pavellan - Freeform, top!dorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctoberSkies/pseuds/OctoberSkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for anonymous tumblr prompt: Dorian and Varlen trying electricity in the bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Spark

Dorian smiled against Varlen’s skin, the vague aftertaste of sweet wine and figs still fresh upon his warm lips. It had all started out rather innocently enough, with a simple invitation for Varlen to join him in his quarters for some well-deserved _rest and relaxation_. But sitting there, watching the elven man’s face light up with laughter as he popped fig after fig into his waiting lips and asked all manner of curious questions (Dorian’s favourite being “does the term _vintage_ only apply to wines from _Tevinter?_ ”), Dorian soon found himself lingering on his amatus’ eyes. On the beautiful lines of him _._ Tracing Varlen silently by candlelight, painting a picture of him in his mind. With each sip of wine, Varlen did not get more beautiful, as is so often the case with mild inebriation. Instead, he became more _real_. Tangible and there and _his._ Sometimes Dorian wasn’t quite convinced that they were truly together. Not because Varlen ever gave him reason to doubt it, mind you. It was simply a force of habit – a lingering aftereffect of love slipping through his fingers whenever he ever dared reach for it.

_Now? Well…_

Dorian shifted from above his amatus, and placed a gentle kiss on Varlen’s jaw, relishing the low giggle that rolled easily from the other man’s lips. Eager for more, he continued to trail fluttering kisses all the way up to Varlen’s ear, and the elven man twitched in surprise when he lightly nipped the lobe. Dorian felt a light whack on his shoulder and chuckled, easing himself up onto his forearms to gaze down at Varlen, all flushed cheeks and parted lips, curved into a smile.

“By all means, if you only want this to last a minute or two, _continue_.” Varlen said, then broke off into a gasp of moan-tinged laughter as Dorian suddenly reached down to rub his hand over his lover’s crotch. With the flat of his palm, Dorian moved in slow, expert circles, delighting in the increasingly breathy sounds Varlen was making and the rolling movements of his hips as he fought against the overwhelming urge to push back. Dorian wouldn’t have minded if he had, but his attempt at self-restraint did not go unappreciated. Besides, Dorian had something a little different planned for tonight…

“Oh? A shame. I had hoped to enjoy this for a touch longer than a minute…” Dorian replied playfully, and shifted positon, scooting back so that he was straddling Varlen’s thighs. Then, with a kind of perfect, teasing slowness, he worked his fingers through the loops of Varlen’s belt. Threaded the leather through the buckle, occasionally letting his hand brush lower to tease Varlen’s bulge, hidden beneath the fabric. Enjoyed the sharp gasp it resulted in, and the way Varlen’s back arched in response to the agonisingly light friction.

Soon, Dorian had freed Varlen of his breeches and was sliding them down his long, toned legs, delighting in the visible shiver that danced over his newly exposed skin. Varlen assisted him in pulling his feet free, and once the pants were lying discarded on the floor, Dorian lowered himself down, taking Varlen’s foot in his hands. Then, inch by inch, he worked his way back up his lover’s leg, pressing his lips to the sensitive inner side of his ankle, his calf, _his thigh_ …

… Varlen laughed then gasped, jerking his leg a little as Dorian ghosted his lips over the hollow of his pelvis, sending a rush of goose-bumps blossoming across Varlen’s torso.  Taking that for the good sign it was, Dorian changed tact, instead using his tongue to tease his amatus’ lower stomach, before sweeping his way upwards, over the taut yet lean muscles of his abdomen. Over his stuttering chest, angling to the right to catch one of his nipples, and then finally tracing the line of his pale vallaslin from his throat to his lips. He followed it like a map. Varlen met the kiss enthusiastically, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Dorian’s short dark hair, groaning into the mage’s lips as his hand continued to rub along his stiffening shaft.

But Dorian was far from done yet.

“Shall we… try something a little different tonight amatus?” he asked after breaking the kiss for some much needed air. “Put a little _spark_ into it?”

Varlen raised an eyebrow, the breathless smile still on his lips as he took on a tone of mock indignation. “What? You mean this isn’t _sparky_ enough for you?”

Dorian let out a low, knowing chuckle, reaching up to trace the side of Varlen’s face. Varlen closed his eyes, sighing contently, and leaned into the touch. Finally, he reopened them, and there was something in those bright blue spheres that made Dorian’s heart clench in his chest.

Trust. Pure, utter trust.

 “Well, all right. Go on then,” Varlen said with a playfully magnanimous wave of his hand, leaning forward to press his lips to Dorian’s. _“Make my night.”_

_Maker, he was wonderful._

Returning the kiss and mingling it with a laugh of his own, Dorian kept their lips locked in burning passion as he reached blindly for the side table, drew open the top drawer, and fished out a bottle of oil. He popped the cork, feeling Varlen tense up in anticipation at the mere sound, and dipped his fingers into the substance, working the liquid between his fingers until they were thoroughly slippery. Varlen made a whining noise into Dorian’s mouth, urging him to hurry up, and Dorian obliged without further encouragement. He was, after all, rather curious himself. He had been contemplating this for a few weeks now, his mind’s eye conjuring all sorts of images of his heat-flushed amatus, squirming and gasping beneath his deft fingers. Now it was time for Dorian to see it for himself. He had no doubt his imagination, however well-honed it might be, would fall remarkably short of the real thing.

Slipping in the first finger was easy enough. Dorian made sure to work Varlen into a demanding mess, circling and slicking the tight ring of muscle with his teasing tip, until the elven man all but pulled himself down on the digit in frustration. Giving in more than willingly, Dorian let his long index finger enter his amatus, gently and slowly despite the toe-curling whines of need shivering from the back of Varlen’s throat. Dorian was always careful with his lovers, but especially Varlen. The thought of unintentionally causing him pain made Dorian’s stomach clench in a mixture of horror and dread. So, he started with long, smooth thrusts, working a little deeper with each movement, occasionally curving his finger to brush past that sensitive spot and earn himself a heavy, hitching gasp. Varlen arched at the sensation, knotting his hands into the bedsheets, sweat beginning to glisten on his brow, his torso, and the tight muscles of his neck.

Dorian kept Varlen like that for a time, holding himself up with his forearm against the mattress while his other hand dipped deep into the elven man, over and over, coaxing him from shivering lust to full-blown, heady desire. He could practically sense the throes of pleasure pulsing through his amatus – could feel it in the clenching of his delicate inner muscles as they tightened and trembled around his fingers every time he brushed that sensitive place inside him.   

When Varlen’s toes curled against the sheets, and his hands, which were now pressed almost desperately to Dorian’s back, began to tighten and flex, Dorian knew that was his cue. Not wanting to completely take his lover by surprise, Dorian pushed his now two fingers in as deep as they would go, and left them like that as Varlen let out a low, desperate groan. Then, Dorian leaned down, his hot breath wafting over the elven man’s ear. “Are you ready for the _spark_?”

Swallowing heavily, Varlen nodded, sweat clinging to his brow as he tried to shift on Dorian’s fingers but found that he was rather thoroughly held in place by the mage’s firm position on top of him. For a moment, Dorian allowed Varlen to teeter on the edge of friction, moving his fingers only ever so slightly; _just_ enough to coax a whimpered moan from his amatus’ lips. To entice Varlen to dig his fingertips into Dorian’s back in pent-up frustration. To see the hardness of his shaft as it strained, stiff and leaking onto his stomach.

Then, Dorian suddenly swept down, smothered Varlen’s lips with his own, and sent a small spark of electricity racing from the tips of his buried fingers.

Varlen let out a yelp, his whole body jerking in a sudden shudder of shock and disbelief. The sound was lost in Dorian’s mouth, reduced to a sharp, muted moan that curled at the back of the mage’s throat.  Varlen writhed for a moment, then managed to free his lips long enough to gasp out a throaty, “W-What was _that?!”_

Kissing him swiftly on the nose, Dorian chuckled. “A _little spark_ , amatus. As I said.”

A breathless laugh found its way to Varlen’s lips and he shook his head in disbelief. “Well shit,  I didn’t know you meant that _literally_!”

“If you’d prefer, we can sto—”

“— No!” Varlen gritted his teeth and almost hissed the word, arching against Dorian, still barely able to take full, satisfying breaths. His entire body was quivering, teetering on the edge. “N-No, it’s… Creators, _do it again_. _Please…!_ ”

Dorian felt Varlen tense up, his muscles clenching, bracing himself. But the first thing Dorian did was nestle back down, kissing his hair, his jaw, his lips. He started moving his fingers again, but left magic out of it, lulling Varlen’s coiled muscles back into relaxation. Feeling his amatus begin to breathe again, and kiss back sloppily, still giving way to intermittent, unexpected moans. The inevitable shock was, after all, far better when it was not entirely expected.

Moving his hand faster, Dorian began to notice Varlen pushing back urgently, angling his hips to grind against Dorian’s fingers, but not quite catching enough friction to send himself over the edge. Dorian curled his fingers, now making sure that with each thrust he was brushing past Varlen’s prostate. It was almost too much – Varlen gasped hard, throwing his head back against the mattress, sweat-matted and perfect as he writhed in Dorian’s arms, clinging to him tightly. Then, with a private, wicked grin, Dorian sent another pulse running through his fingers, right when he struck that sweet spot inside his lover.

 _That_ shook a loud cry from Varlen’s already parted lips, and his muscles clamped down as Dorian maintained the current. It was enough to send his amatus into a quivering dance around his still thrusting fingers. Varlen clawed madly at Dorian’s back, choking out his name, his body rigid and his inner walls throbbing. The mage focused, thrusting in deep, then curving his fingers expertly on the retreat. Varlen jumped and jerked, stretched around Dorian’s fingers, his delicate muscles forced into a twitching rhythm by the mixture of electricity and friction. Dorian could read the stages – the sudden, tight clenching sensation every time he increased the current. The fluttering of every muscle, sent into a throe of tingling pleasure as he got used to it. And finally, the wave of heat that coursed through Varlen like a thundering river as Dorian finally focused solely on making his amatus cum.

Varlen’s feet flexed, his toes curling as Dorian applied pressure directly to his prostate, sending a sharp series of sparks directly into the now hyper-sensitive nerves. All sound – all of Varlen’s whimpers and gasps and heavy, desperate moans – suddenly gave way to a strained silence. His eyes rolled back, his back arched, and he was suddenly overcome by fierce intermittent twitches that shuddered through every tight muscle of his body. Varlen’s mouth dropped open, and Dorian took a moment to appreciate him in all his perfect stimulation. His flushed skin, his trembling limbs, the breaths that seized in the back of his throat. Varlen clung to Dorian’s back, fingertips desperately digging into the mage’s shoulders, and he climaxed hard. His stiff, leaking cock suddenly gave way to hot, thick ropes of cum. They shot across his belly, some even reaching as far as his chest. Dorian made a point to press in hard with his buried fingers, moving them in short twitching motions, still sending a steady stream of electricity directly Varlen’s prostate as the elven man was forced into a prolonged, teeth-clenching orgasm.

Varlen’s body writhed as he released Dorian’s back with one hand to clamp down on the mage’s bicep, white-knuckled and desperate, his body still quaking despite his climax having technically reached completion. Deep inside him, Dorian was still filling him with heat. With prolonged, sharp, tremulous pleasure that wracked him all the way from his toes to the tips of his ears. Varlen made a strangled whimpering sound – the first he had made since being pushed over the edge – then choked in a massive gasp of air with a sudden, desperate rush. Sensing Varlen had reached his limit, Dorian eased off, stopping the electricity but leaving his fingers in place, enjoying the feeling of his amatus’ quivering as he came down from his sustained orgasm. Then, it was as though all the strength suddenly drained from Varlen’s body, and he went nearly limp, his arms falling from where they had clung so desperately to Dorian to land on the soft mattress.

Slowly, Dorian withdrew his fingers, being careful not to angle them and send a jolt of painful pleasure through his already exhausted lover. With his other hand, he reached up and brushed the hair from Varlen’s face. The elf’s eyes were closed, but he was still awake, dragging in deep, shivering breaths through his parted lips. He looked… _Maker_ he looked incredible. Spent and still occasionally giving in to a stiff shudder as his body tried to readjust to the lack of stimulation. When Varlen finally opened his eyes, they were glassy and distant for a moment, before slowly slipping back into focus. He blinked a few times, as though to clear his vision, and Dorian’s lips curved gently into a smile.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and Varlen let out a hoarse, breathless laugh, his own mouth twitching at the corner.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, barely managing to pant out the words, “but Creators… I don’t even care. _Fenedhis_ , my muscles feel… like _melted butter_. That was— _ah_!” he gasped sharply as Dorian moved, his leg brushing against Varlen’s now flaccid length. The mage apologised hastily, and Varlen let out another low, exhausted chuckle. “It’s all right… but…”

Dorian tilted his head, moving some pillows so that Varlen could sit up a little while his strength slowly returned. He would suggest a bath, but Dorian knew the way a man’s legs could turn to jelly for a time after something like what Varlen had just endured. Dorian didn’t quite trust him to walk, yet.

“But?” Dorian prompted playfully, settling down beside Varlen and running his fingers through his amatus’ sweat-soaked silver hair, vaguely conscious of his own erection. Dorian would tend to himself in a moment – Varlen was clearly spent for the evening, and it had been _well worth it._

“… I’ll have to find a way to get you back, you know.” Varlen said, his mouth curling into a mischievous smile. “Don’t have electricity at my fingertips, but… _I’ll figure something out.”_

Dorian laughed musically, using his hand to take Varlen’s chin and turn his face towards him. Then, he gently pressed his lips to the elven man’s in a slow, lingering kiss, relishing the taste of him. Of wine and figs. When they parted, Dorian gave him an amused look, edged with all the warmth and adoration he dared to express.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it for a second, _amatus_.”

 


End file.
